


Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue

by novemberhush



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: And I didn’t consciously pick the name Lisa, And what he’s worth, Clearly my subconscious was working on that one, He just needs Harvey to pull his head out of his ass and admit he wants the same thing, I couldn’t resist, I just looked down at what I’d typed and there it was, If you don’t know who Tommy Wiseau is count yourself lucky, Jealous Harvey, M/M, Mike knows what he wants, Sorry that’s a lot of tags about a reference that really only gets about two sentences near the end, The Tommy Wiseau thing came about because of the original prompt, Was too afraid to commit and is really regretting it now Harvey, pining Harvey, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-15 10:47:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13611759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novemberhush/pseuds/novemberhush
Summary: When Mike decides he wants more from his relationship with Harvey than the friendship with benefits they’re currently having (and not talking about), Harvey gets scared and bolts.But after a few miserable months of pining, will seeing Mike with a new mystery man finally be enough to make Harvey  swallow his pride and ask for a second chance at a new beginning? And is Mike’s relationship with this new man really all it seems?(Amy could probably answer that, but she’s really not getting paid enough for this.)





	Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Loyalty2WayStreet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loyalty2WayStreet/gifts).



> Hey! So I wrote this for my good friend, Millie, a.k.a. Loyalty2WayStreet, months ago for a prompt she sent me (I’ve put the prompt in the end notes for anyone who’s interested) and I really should have posted it here sooner, when certain things that happened in the show might have been fresher in people’s memories, but I’m lazy, forgive me. Anyway, the title is from the Crystal Gayle song of the same name (because my momma raised me country) and it just seemed to suit a sad, pining Harvey. Although he also gets a little green-eyed in this fic too. And as I’m posting this on Valentine’s Day, I hope you have a good one, whatever your relationship status. Hope you enjoy it. :-)

  
The worst part of it was that it was all Harvey’s own fault.

  
Well, no, the worst part of it was that Mike was seeing someone else. A closer to his own age, man purse-carrying, probably listens to shitty indie bands Harvey’s never heard of, someone else. But knowing it was all his own fault came a pretty close second.

  
He just had to screw it all up, didn’t he? Right when Mike had said those three little words. No, not _those_ three little words. The other three everyone in his life seemed so fond of throwing around - _I want more_.

  
Mike had whispered them as he lay in his bed watching Harvey get dressed, preparing to leave him again, still coming up with excuses why he couldn’t stay the night, even as the urge to do just that grew stronger every time.

  
They’d been doing this … whatever the hell it was (great sex, great conversation about everything except what they were doing and a whole lot of big, scary feelings was what it was) for almost a year now. Ten months, to be precise. They had fallen into bed together not long after Mike had broken up with Rachel, and yet they’d never woken up together. Harvey had made sure of that. Because somehow waking up together made it all real and Harvey wasn’t ready for that.

  
Real was scary. Real was dangerous. Real was _fragile_.

  
But Mike Ross was nothing if not real. Of course he wanted their relationship to be that way too. He’d had enough of fraud. Enough of faking it. He wanted the real deal, and he seemed to want it with Harvey.

  
Harvey should have been over the moon. Instead he was scared shitless. And, okay, deep down maybe a little over the moon. But the fear won out.

  
“ _Mike_ …”

  
“ _Harvey_ …” Mike mocked him, a gentle smile on his face. A smile that only made what Harvey had to say that much worse, a smile that made Harvey’s guts twist as he got ready to run from the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  
“Mike, you want a quick tumble and a few laughs, I’m your guy. But anything more than that? That’s not me, kid. I’m sorry, but it’s not. I thought you knew that. I never would have started this if I thought y-”

  
“Bullshit!”

  
The vehemence with which Mike spat out that one single, solitary word slapped Harvey in the face and it took him a second to pull it together.

  
“What did you just say to me?”

  
“You heard. Pretending that this is all just a good time for you with no strings attached. That’s crap, Harvey, and you know it! You’re trying to play this off like it doesn’t matter. Like we don’t matter. Like …”, and now it was Mike’s turn to falter. “Like _I_ don’t matter…”

  
“Mike, that’s … that’s not true, that’s not what…”

  
“I _know_ it’s not true! And I know it’s not what you think either. Not really. But all this sneaking around, not telling anyone we’re together, hell, not even admitting to _yourself_ that we’re together … that makes it _feel_ true.”

  
Mike ducked his head and Harvey didn’t know whether to be relieved or bereft that all that ferocious blue was no longer centred on him, boring through the heart he liked to pretend he didn’t have and right into the soul he couldn’t stand to bare.

  
“Look, Mike, I’m just trying to be honest here. I don’t want to hurt you, bu-”

  
“Yeah?” Mike interrupted, head snapping back up, the tears in his eyes doing nothing to extinguish the fire Harvey still saw there. “Well, you’re doing a pretty lousy job of both. I know you have feelings for me. _Real_ feelings. At least be honest with yourself, if not with me, about that.”

  
“Mike, listen-”

  
“No! I’m done listening to you, Harvey! I’m done with being nothing more than just a soft place to land at the end of a hard day. I want more than that. I _deserve_ more than that.

  
“I want to wake up with you, and I want everyone to _know_ I wake up with you, and, yeah, I want to sleep with you. Jesus, I want to fuck your brains out on the nearest available flat surface at any given moment. But I want to _fall_ asleep with you too.

  
“I want to kiss you goodnight and I want to kiss you good morning, and I want to kiss you any damn time in between if I feel like it. I want to walk down the street holding your hand. I want to go on dates with you. I want to walk into every room with you and have everyone know you’re mine and I’m yours and they’re shit out of luck if they think there’s anything they can do to change that. In short, I want **more**. Hell, I want _everything_. I want it all, Harvey, and I want it with you.”

  
“Mike, I … I don’t know what to say to that. You’re right. I care about you, you know I do. And you do deserve everything. You deserve the world. I’m just not sure I’m equipped to give it to you.”

  
Mike’s lip quivered, but his voice was admirably steady when he softly said, “Okay, then I don’t think we should see each other outside of the office or business events until you **are** sure.”

  
“So, what, you’re punishing me for being truthful? Is that it? Is that what this is? Punishment?”

  
“No, Harvey, not punishment. Self-preservation.”

  
That had been two months ago and they had hardly seen each other since. Mike had seen to that, handling the cases he got from the firm with ruthless efficiency and as little contact with Harvey as possible, while still advising at the clinic and helping them fight the cases that really sparked his passion. Harvey didn’t even attempt to lie to himself about how much he missed him.

  
In the past, after things went south with people like Scottie and Jake and Zoe and that brief, disastrous fling with his former therapist (Jesus, he’d pay another headshrinker just to tell him what the hell he’d been thinking _there_ ), he would take a night or two, maybe three at the most, and just let himself wallow. Just a night or two of him, alone, in his apartment, save for a bottle of Macallan and a stack of blues records. Then he’d pick himself up, clean himself off and go out and pick up some pretty young thing and get right back on the horse that bit him. Or whatever.

  
Not this time. This time there was only scotch. He tried the records, of course, but for the first time in his life music hadn’t helped, not even a little. It _hurt_. Harvey had thought he understood the blues all these years, had thought he understood the pain behind them and could relate. He’d understood nothing. Only now did he really understand what those legends were singing about. And it hurt too much to listen to it.

  
He tried the ‘nothing gets you over the last one like the next one’ thing too. Got himself all dolled up. New suit, new shoes, best subtly expensive (or expensively subtle) cologne. Headed to one of his old haunts. Hadn’t taken him long to draw attention. And yet when it came to it he couldn’t close the deal. Muttered a few apologies, threw a couple of bills on the bar and bolted for the door. He hadn’t tried again.

  
And now two months had passed and his liver was taking a pounding while his mattress was decidedly not. But still he couldn’t go to Mike, tell him he’d made a huge mistake and take him in his arms and kiss the everloving crap out of him (or some other such romantic cliché). He still had his pride, after all, even if it was wearing a little thin and not keeping him as warm as it used to.

  
He could, however, mosey on down to his old office and check what progress Mike was making on the Kellerman brief, right? After all, Kellerman was an important client and Harvey was Managing Partner now and it was his business to make sure that his … that Mike was taking care of business. It would be remiss of him not to check in. At least, that was what he told himself as he hurried ( _walked languidly_ , his brain, or ego, or both, lied to him) down the hall to what was now Mike’s office.

  
Mike’s _empty_ office. He pulled up short at the door as he scanned the office again through the glass walls, just to be sure, but no, the bird had definitely flown the coop. Turning to Donna’s old secretarial station, now home to Mike’s secretary, Amy, who he had talked Harvey into hiring, he enquired as nonchalantly as he could where his junior partner had disappeared to.

  
“He had a lunch meeting with a potential client,” Amy lied without missing a beat. She was good, Harvey had to give her credit. But he was better. He applauded her loyalty in covering for her boss with _his_ boss (was that really all he was to Mike these days?) and could see why Mike thought so highly of her, but he hadn’t missed the tiny frown when he had put her on the spot, or the forced casualness of the smile she now gave him. He gave her a look that he hoped conveyed his admiration for her allegiance to her boss whilst also letting her know that he wasn’t buying her ‘meeting with a potential client’ story for a second.

  
He didn’t let himself think about where Mike could possibly be or who he might actually be meeting with until he was back in his office. Once there, though, he paced up and down, past the shelves full of music that no longer comforted him the way it once had, ticking off the possibilities in his head.

  
If it was an actual client, or even just a potential one as Amy had claimed, there would be no need for secrecy. Mike wasn’t going to get in trouble for that. So who could Mike be meeting with that his secretary didn’t want to tell Harvey about?

  
Someone from the clinic? That kid who had manhandled his Otis record that time? Or a client from the clinic? No, he was working on the Kellerman brief for the firm, sure, but it was nothing that would prevent someone with Mike’s mind, focus and abilities from working on a pro bono for the clinic at the same time. So there would be no need to hide such a meeting from Harvey, or anyone else at the firm.

  
That left one option, then. Personal. Mike was having lunch with someone all right, but it was someone he wanted to keep private. From there it wasn’t hard to start forming theories in his mind. Mike had met someone. Someone who could offer him more, and he was moving on, leaving Harvey behind. He hit the scotch even harder that night.

  
A few days after that Harvey was heading home for another liquid dinner and long, dark night of the soul. He stopped in his tracks, though, when he saw Mike stroll out of his office with his hand on the shoulder of a dark-haired young man, probably around his own age and wearing one of those juvenile man bags slung across his body. They hadn’t spotted Harvey in the dark hallway, but snatches of their conversation reached his ears.

  
“Oliver and Marissa are gonna meet us there,” Mike was saying. “I can’t wait for you to meet them. You’re gonna love ‘em, I promise.”

  
_Oliver and Marissa? The kids from the legal clinic? Mike’s introducing this guy to his friends?? He never introduced me to his friends!_ Harvey felt a surge of anger, jealousy and God knows what else rush through him, but in its wake all it left was a hollow feeling and a voice that sounded suspiciously like his own taunting, _Well, why would he? It’s not like you ever expressed the slightest bit of interest in any part of his life that extended beyond the walls and family of PSL_.

  
That night, as he downed his third scotch of the evening, he conceded the truth of what he’d known all along. Mike deserved better than him. He’d been right to walk away and now Harvey had to be man enough to let him go. He put on his father’s tapes and let the music torture him. That was what he deserved.

  
It was two nights later when he saw the mystery man again, still with the bag slung across his body, hair messy, tie loosened and the top button of his shirt undone. Harvey would have hated the guy on sight on account of all of that alone, even if he hadn’t been there for Mike, but now it made him feel practically murderous.

  
Yes, the work day was over, but, Jesus, if you’re meeting your new partner at their place at work, would it kill you to keep up appearances a little while longer? Come on! Especially if that partner was Mike. Mike who deserved nothing less than someone who was always going to go all out to impress him. Of course, that was the moment the traitorous little voice in his head chose to pipe up again. _Pity you couldn’t have remembered everything Mike deserved while he was yours_.

  
Clamping down on that line of thought, Harvey approached cautiously, one hand clenched into a fist, the fingers of the other twitching on the handle of his briefcase. Amy had been packing up for the night, but had stopped when the man leant against her station (and, yeah, Amy seemed about as impressed with that as Donna would have) and said, “Hey. I’m here to see Mike Ross. He’s expecting me. My name’s David Gr-”

  
He didn’t get further than that before a grinning Mike appeared from his office and clapped him on the back.

  
“David, you’re right on time. Sorry, I’m running a little behind. Just give me a second to get packed up and I’m all yours. Amy, it’s fine, you can go. See you tomorrow.”

  
_I’m all yours._

_  
All yours._

_  
**Yours**._

  
The words resounded through Harvey’s head, repeating themselves over and over, and for one long, terrifying, never-ending second he thought he might have a panic attack right there. The only thing that got him breathing again was the thought that he couldn’t do that to Mike. Mike, who would inevitably feel responsible and who didn’t deserve that burden. He just needed to get out of here, away from the scene in front of him, the sight of Mike with another man. Another man who would never love him the way Harvey loved him.

  
_And what way’s that?_ the little voice jeered. _Selfishly? Jealously? Behind closed doors and only when it suits you?_

  
The strangled noise that slipped past his lips involuntarily at that self-inflicted punch to the gut put paid to any idea of fleeing the scene unnoticed. Three pairs of eyes - Mike’s, Amy’s and _David’s_ apparently - turned to him. He wasn’t sure what they read on his face, but whatever it was Amy clearly didn’t want any part of it because she skedaddled out of there without so much as a by your leave.

  
Mike, for his part, just looked confused, but he rallied quickly.

  
“Harvey, this is Dav-“

  
“I don’t want to know who he is, Mike. Your personal life is none of my business.”

  
“My … what?” The confused look was back on Mike’s face. Ordinarily Harvey would have rolled his eyes fondly while trying to keep the smile that said ‘ _you’re freakin’ adorable_ ’ off his face, but not tonight. Tonight he wasn’t in the mood to have salt rubbed in the wound, even if some part of him thought he deserved it.

  
“I’m glad you’ve found someone who could give you more, but I really don’t need my failings rubbed in my face. I don’t need reminding of all the things I lack. Trust me, I’m aware. I always have been. And if I hadn’t then the last two miserable months would have _made_ me aware. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”

  
He pushed past the mystery man, ( _David_ , that stupid, hateful voice reminded him) and made for the elevator, but Mike’s firm grip on his bicep stopped him.

  
“Harvey, what are you talking about?”

  
The confusion, the innocence, the obliviousness, in Mike’s voice. As if he really didn’t know how Harvey felt about him. How much he loved him. How much seeing him with someone else was killing him.

  
_He doesn’t, you idiot!_ the voice in his head roared. _Because you’ve never told him!_

  
And that was it. The final straw. Or maybe just the last push he needed. Harvey whirled around, heart on fire and eyes blazing.

  
“I can’t watch you with someone else! It’s tearing me apart! _That’s_ what I’m talking about!” he bellowed.

  
Mike’s eyes widened in shock and Harvey felt himself deflate. It wasn’t until he brought his hand up to drag it through his hair that he realised how much he was shaking.

  
“Jesus, Mike,” he said, voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “Don’t you know? Haven’t you…”

  
“Haven’t I what?” Mike asked, his own voice hushed in the echoing hallway.

  
“Haven’t you seen how I am without you? I’m a mess, Mike. I can’t eat, can’t sleep, I’m drinking myself into an early grave. And nothing helps. Not work, not the scotch, not music, not running ‘til I’m fit to drop or beating the crap out of the punchbag at the gym. I can’t bring myself to touch anyone else, anyone who isn’t you.

  
“I’m going crazy without you and I’ve no one to blame but myself. I don’t deserve you. I never did. And if that wasn’t abundantly clear already then I’m driving the point home by being a jackass about your new boyfriend when I should be happy you’ve found someone who can give you all the things I was too scared to even admit I want to give you.”

  
Mike had been staring at Harvey through his whole little speech, the faculty of speech having seemingly deserted him itself. But now his mouth started to move as if he’d just remembered how to speak. Before he could, however, a dry cough from somewhere behind him broke the silence.

  
Mike and Harvey both turned toward the direction it came from to find a bemused-looking David with a small smile on his face.

  
“Mike, I think maybe we should do this another night instead, hmm? It’s obvious you two have a lot to talk about. We can reschedule.”

  
Harvey opened his mouth to apologise and to assure him that wouldn’t be necessary, that he was the one who should take his leave, but Mike beat him to it.

  
“Yeah, thanks, David. I’d appreciate that. I’ll call you tomorrow to set up another time. I know you’re on a deadline so I promise it’ll be soon.”

  
“Mike, you don’t have t-” Harvey started to protest, but Mike cut him off.

  
“I’ll call you at the office and not at home.” Turning back to look Harvey square in the eye, he added with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to disturb Lisa and the baby.”

  
Now it was Harvey’s turn to be confused. He searched Mike’s face for answers, but all he found was a shit-eating grin and amused eyes.

  
Hoping the only other person in the room might be more forthcoming Harvey’s eyes turned to David and caught on the hand he now held up and the fingers he was wiggling back and forth. Specifically on the _fourth_ finger of the _left_ hand. The low light in the hallway and that spilling from Mike’s office was enough to glint off the wedding band he wore there and that Harvey had never noticed before, too blinded by jealousy and anger and sadness. But like the song says, when your heart’s on fire, smoke gets in your eyes. And Harvey’s heart had been burning for Mike for a long, long time.

  
“Oh, and David? I don’t think you need to mention any of this in your article, do you?”

  
“Of course not, Mike. I work for ‘The Times’, not ‘The National Enquirer’,” David said, mock affronted. As he brushed past them on his way to the elevator he threw a wink at that them with a, “But we do have a very popular wedding announcement section should you ever wish to avail yourselves of it.”

  
Harvey never took his eyes off the blue ones brimming with something like joy in front of him. He heard the elevator arrive and he heard it leave again, bearing away the man he’d thought was a barrier to all he could have had with Mike. But now, although still a little confused, he was beginning to understand that perhaps the only person who had been a barrier to the relationship this whole time was himself.

  
“His article?” he asked, when he finally found his voice again.

  
“Yeah, you remember that article they ran about me going legit and making it into the bar?”

  
Harvey nodded, the light beginning to dawn on him at long last.

  
“Well, David’s the one who wrote it and he called me a few weeks ago to ask about maybe doing a follow-up piece. It’s coming up on a year since the first article came out and some people had expressed interest in a sort of ‘one year later’ thing, to see how I’ve been doing as a real lawyer. I agreed, but on the proviso that the clinic was one of the main focal points of the article. Turns out David and his editor think there’s scope for a whole series of articles on the clinic and the work they do there. So I-”

  
“You took him out to dinner to introduce him to the kids from the clinic.”

  
“Yeah, and we hit it off - _as friends_ \- and he introduced me to his wife, Lisa, and their unbelievably cute baby daughter, Darcy, and the rest you know.”

  
Harvey nodded again, but then something tugged at his memory. “That secretary of yours could have saved me a few rough nights if she’d only told me who you were having lunch with a few weeks ago.”

  
Mike laughed. “Oh, yeah, she told me about that. Or should I say she bawled me out about it. Don’t blame her, it wasn’t her fault. The lunch was a last minute thing and I rushed out of here without telling her who I was going to meet, and in case you haven’t noticed I’ve been kind of a mess myself these last couple of months …”

  
The blue eyes looked down for a moment, breaking Harvey’s heart all over again, before coming back up to meet Harvey’s gaze once more and continuing “… and, well, she wasn’t sure if I’d ran out of here to go meet a client, throw myself in the Hudson or score off the coffee cart guy. Out of those three options she thought ‘meeting potential client’ sounded best when the Big Bad Boss came around asking questions. I told her later about David and the article.”

  
“I see,” Harvey croaked, voice thick with emotion.

  
“Yeah,” Mike croaked right back at him.

  
The silence settled around them once more, neither of them sure what to say to break it apparently. And then that stupid, awful, taunting, goddamn brilliant little voice let itself be heard again.

  
_Oh, for fuc- You’re Harvey fucking Specter! Get it together, you idiot! You’ve done the hard part. Negotiations are finished. Now close the deal and make sure it’s watertight because you’re not gonna last another goddamn minute without this man!_

  
“Mik-”

  
“So, you-”

  
They both began speaking at the same time, tripping over all the words they hadn’t said, then pulling up short upon realising the other had something to say too.

  
“After you,” Harvey said, receiving a spectacular eye roll for his trouble.

  
“So, you’re going crazy without me, huh?” The smile on his face was blinding.

  
It was Harvey’s turn to roll his eyes, but there was no sting to it. Particularly when he tried to tease Mike back with the words, “And you’ve been a mess these last couple of months?”, but his voice just came out soft and tender, pained and relieved all at the same time.

  
Mike bit his lip and gave a sharp nod.

  
“Then how about we stop being crazy and miserable alone and start being madly in love and happy together?”

  
And if Harvey had thought Mike’s smile was blinding before, well, he was wishing he had some of those special solar eclipse glasses Louis had insisted on buying on him right about now. Except, no, he’d happily go blind looking at Mike Ross, who shone brighter to him than the sun, the moon and the stars combined and whose beauty and light and warmth could never be eclipsed.

  
“You’re serious? You’re not messing with me right now?” Mike asked, but his grin suggested he already knew the answer.

  
“I’m not messing with you, Mike,” Harvey replied, his own smile pretty damn dazzling.

  
“And you’re ready to go public? To tell people about us?” Mike prodded. “I meant what I said, Harvey. I still want more than just sneaking around behind everyone’s back, more than pretending not to mind when you’re sneaking out of my bedroom in the middle of the night.”

“No more sneaking around and no more pretending, I promise.”

  
Cupping Mike’s face between his hands Harvey leaned in and kissed him gently before looking him in the eye and saying the words that had been fighting to escape his lips for longer than he cared to admit.

  
“I love you, Mike. I’m _in_ love with you and I have been for a very long time. And I don’t care who knows it. In fact, I want everyone to know it. How did you put it? ‘I want them to know you’re mine and I’m yours and they’re shit out of luck if they think there’s anything they can do to change that.’”

  
Smiling, Mike said, “Well, then, what are waiting for? Take me home, Harvey.”

  
Pulling back just a little, Harvey quirked an enquiring eyebrow. “Don’t you want to go out to dinner or something first? Make our first official appearance as a couple? Let everyone know we’re together?”

  
“That can wait, now I know it’s definitely going to happen. I love you, Harvey, and you love me. Tonight it’s enough that it’s just the two of us know that. Well, the two of us and a reporter for one of the biggest newspapers in the world.”

  
Harvey laughed. “You think our secret’s safe with him?”

  
“I think he has a wife called Lisa and given that you just oh so melodramatically announced in front of him that seeing me with someone else was ‘tearing you apart’ that he’s going to be tormenting that poor woman with Tommy Wiseau impressions for the rest of the night.”

  
“Oh, Jesus, I should probably send her a fruit basket or something to apologise.”

  
”I think you could send her the whole damn orchard and it wouldn’t come close to making up for that.”

  
“And what about you, Mike?” Harvey asked, sobering. “What can I give you to make up for how much of a coward I’ve been and how much I’ve hurt you?”

  
Wrapping his arms around Harvey’s neck, Mike smiled and kissed him, before leaning back a little to say, “Take me out to that fancy new Italian place that just opened, hold my hand across the table as we wait for our food, play footsie with me under the table as we eat said food, then kiss me long and slow over dessert for everyone to see, and we’ll call it even. Oh, and don’t flirt with the waitstaff!”

  
“Mike, I only have eyes for you.”

  
“Uh-huh. I’ll remind you you said that the next time we bump into Kate Upton during Fashion Week. Now, come on, let’s get out of here. It seems neither of us has gotten laid in the last two months and I think it’s time we broke our dry spell, don’t you?”

  
Harvey didn’t fight the grin that spread across his face.

  
“Aye, aye, Captain.”

  
Mike just rolled his eyes and laughed. “Come on, then, Number One. Let’s get home so I can give you permission to beam aboard.”

  
As Mike’s Best Man - he understood why Harvey went with Marcus and didn’t sulk about it once, thank you very much - Louis insisted on handling the wedding announcement that appeared in ‘The Times’ eight months later. (And it wasn’t his fault the paper insisted on publishing each party’s full name, no matter what Harvey _Reginald_ Specter thought.)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey again! Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. If you feel like letting me know your thoughts on it, come say hi in the comments section, or over on tumblr where I’m also known as novemberhush. And for those who would like to know, the prompt Millie sent me was, “I can’t watch you with someone else! It’s tearing me apart!” So obviously I heard the ‘tearing me apart’ bit and thought of Tommy Wiseau in ‘The Room’! Okay, that’s it from me for the time being. Thanks again for reading. xxx


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